


[OiSuga Week 2017] If the Universe Regrets

by Heartythrills



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Oikawa's a volunteer, Oisuga Week, Oisuga Week 2017, Suga's temporarily blind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-12 01:15:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11726472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heartythrills/pseuds/Heartythrills
Summary: Oikawa has finally found his soul mate, but his soul mate doesn’t know they’re soul mates. Oikawa’s been told that the universe fights for souls to be together. He wonders if the universe also fights for souls to not be together, or if it sometimes regrets a decision. His soulmate is blind.





	[OiSuga Week 2017] If the Universe Regrets

**Author's Note:**

> For OiSuga Week 2 2017 Day 6 Prompt Soulmate au.

Oikawa has finally found his soul mate, but his soul mate doesn’t know they’re soul mates. Oikawa’s been told that the universe fights for souls to be together. He wonders if the universe also fights for souls to not be together, or if it sometimes regrets a decision.

Oikawa stops at the door to the dimly lit room and takes in a deep breath as the red thread comes into sight.

People commonly find their soul mates as early as two years old and as late as 25 years old. He’s never heard of or known anyone without a soul mate older than that, which was concerning because he didn’t find his soul mate until just a month before his 26th birthday. Yeah, 10 days ago.

“Oikawa?”

Oikawa’s lips quiver a bit when Suga’s hand gropes the air for his, the red thread from his pinky gleaming under the hospital light.

“Hey.” Oikawa takes Suga’s hands into his, watching it flinch in surprise at the contact before relaxing. Suga’s starlit hair covers his eyes and Oikawa knows those silver lashes never lifted from his cheeks today either.

“Thanks for coming again…but--”

“Of course I do,” Oikawa interrupts before Suga can finish his words.

Suga’s fingers are soft, so soft they’re almost fragile; with heat so thin it feels cold. Oikawa hopes the heat that exhausts from his body can somehow protect Suga and embrace him in a way Oikawa couldn’t dare to think. He hopes he can fill Suga’s heart like how he’s meant to, like how he yearns to, and he hopes he can mend his soul with the thread the universe gave him. The thread the universe gave them.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say. Don’t act like you know me,” Suga’s voice has the same edge as yesterday. And the day before. And all the prior 10 days. But the edge doesn’t hurt for its sharpness. That edge couldn’t pierce even as Oikawa wishes it would. At least if it did, he can use that as an excuse to lash out at the man, tell him he’s going to stay by his side whether or not he wants him to, tell him he’s been looking for him all his life and he refuses to leave. But Oikawa couldn’t say those words. No, not when they are the same words that dulled the edge in Suga’s voice. Not when they are Suga’s inner plea for Oikawa to stay. Oikawa tightens his grip on Suga, refusing to let him pull away.

“You were going to say it again, weren’t you?” Oikawa says softly, watching the defiance fade from Suga’s face. “…That I don’t have to come by every day...”

Even if Suga can’t see the thread, even if Suga can’t see Oikawa, even if Suga can’t see that they are soul mates, Oikawa hopes the universe knows that him and Suga weren’t and aren’t a mistake. Oikawa bites his bottom lip to stop the quivering. He hopes that a part of the universe still fights for them.

“No, I wasn’t…” Suga stutters, and Oikawa feels the tug in his heart as he watches the man fluster. ”I was…I was going to say that you need to knock the door,” he attempts to defend. “Or give me a sign…or something…”

Maybe the universe is still fighting for them. That thought fills Oikawa and for just a second longer, he hopes again. “Should I knock three times…or something?”

“Send me a text when you are coming…” Suga suggests. “The nurse helped set my phone up so it can read me the texts.”

“Ok…” Oikawa says, unsure of how to feel about the situation. “Where’s your phone?”

Suga reaches under his pillow and pulls out his phone. To Oikawa’s surprise, Suga doesn’t hand the phone over like most patients he had assisted. Instead, Suga unlocks the phone. His fingers are slow and clumsy as he taps the screen, listening attentively when the phone speaks to him until he finds the keypad screen.  
Suga seems to have learned how to use the voice over function on his phone. Oikawa had helped one a visually impaired girl with it before. That was the first time he knew a function like that existed.

“Ready?” Oikawa asks, noticing the twitch of Suga’s fingers as he waits.

The process took more than half an hour, including entering Oikawa’s name, but he doesn’t mind. Oikawa didn’t choose this line of work for merit. He didn’t come to a hospital to lose patience. He is here for the patient. He is here to help. And for this particular patient, he is here to be his other half.

“Try texting me something,” Suga says, trying to test the text tone specific toward Oikawa.

A bell chimes from the phone when Oikawa sends his text before the phone reads his message, and he takes in the smile that tug at Suga’s face when he hears the message. _Aliens are invading and they brought steamed buns._

“What’s the flavor today?” Suga asks, setting his phone aside. For the past few days, Oikawa started bringing different flavored steam buns and letting Suga guess the flavor. It was the only time Suga would talk. He’ll talk about the smell, what it reminds him of, commenting about whether or not he liked that memory. Each time, Oikawa notes if there was distaste in Suga’s face, making sure to avoid things he doesn’t like.  
“It’s not a surprise if I tell you,” Oikawa says and pulls a chair to sit before handing the bun he spent most of his afternoon making. He adds, “Also, if you give me a 10 on this, you’ll go outside for fresh air like the doctor told you to.”

“If I don’t give you a 10?”

“I’ll only visit you once a week.”

Suga lifts the bun up to his nose, trying to smell the flavor that gives Oikawa such confidence before taking a bite. The fresh spicy aroma streams in the air and Suga’s face almost glows, his eyebrows knitted as though in bliss.

“You better be bringing this everyday,” Suga smiles before taking another bite, and another.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Oikawa whispers as he savors the moments of Suga’s face continuing to light up with each bite of the mapo tofu bun, burning the image of the pink flush that runs from his cheek across his nose bridge to kiss the mole under his silver lashes. He listens to the other talking about what part of the bun he likes best, reminiscing about his favorite restaurants that serve the best mapo tofu. It’s not really a secret, but Oikawa likes Suga’s voice. His voice feels like a velvet caress in Oikawa’s ears. Even more so, he likes Suga’s smile, the one that warms him like a river of gold. He makes it a point to lure that smile onto Suga’s face at least once a day because it’s good for both of them. He wishes Suga would look at him with that smile for once, but Suga’s overly cautious about opening his eyes. He usually keeps a sleeping mask on, or he’ll just keep his eyes closed the whole day.

“What time is it?” Suga asks when he finishes the bun, reaching his hand across for napkins to wipe his face and fingers.

“Dinner time.”

Suga frowns a bit like he usually does when Oikawa answers him vaguely. “Numbers, please.”

“7:14 p.m.” Oikawa says before quickly adding, “But the sun’s still up. We can still go for a walk.”

Suga shakes his head. “We can go tomorrow. You should probably head back. You probably have a lot of other things to do.”

Oikawa sighs. That’s usually how Suga asks him to leave. The nurse will be coming soon to check up on Suga. He doesn’t like anyone being present during his check ups.

“Tomorrow’s Saturday, so I’ll come in the afternoon instead,” Oikawa informs, taking the napkin from Suga’s hand, gently squeezing his fingers.

And because Oikawa doesn’t expect it, his knees almost buckled when Suga spoke.

“Text me when you get home.”

Oikawa can feel the seams of his heart coming undone, the thread from his pinky winding desperately around Suga’s hand unnoticed.

“I will,” Oikawa responds before walking out. He watches the red thread disappear behind closed doors, and his heart completely unravels as another day with Suga comes to an end. He runs his fingers through his hair and calms himself. He’ll get another day.

Oikawa passes by Suga’s nurse, greeting her before he leaves for the night. The sun dips out of sight, but its ray sears the horizon gold, and the sky is a hundred million red threads connecting souls in search of one another. He hopes Suga can see the sky again.

From what Oikawa has heard, Suga only recently became blind. To be exact, he lost his vision the day before Oikawa met him. Suga was brought to the hospital two days prior because he would sporadically lose his vision for several seconds to several minutes per day. Oikawa came by the hospital that day for his final visit with the patient he had been caring for and was told about the case. He didn’t usually assist with the visually impaired, but offered his time if needed since his work was slow. The next day, he was called to come by and meet the Suga since he would be hospitalized for a while. Unfortunately, by the next day, Suga completely lost his vision. He was supposed to be just another patient, Oikawa was supposed to be just a volunteer, and their relationship wasn’t supposed to be personal. But as Oikawa walked toward that room, he felt the sudden tug in his heart, felt as though his heart was unwinding, And even as the red thread hung from their pinkies when he opened that door, Oikawa couldn’t bring himself to say anything to the person who was curled up in bed with tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Good evening,” The cashier greets as Oikawa steps into the convenient store near his apartment. “Making more steamed buns tonight?”

Oikawa laughs. “Yeah.”

When he got home, it is already 9. He takes out his phone to text Suga that he just got home, but his thumb stalls at the send button. Should he write something else? No. It’s late. Suga may have to struggle to text back.

‘I just got back,’ Oikawa writes. After a few minutes his phone lights up and a smile spreads across his face.

‘Don’t forget my mapo tofu.’

‘I won’t.’

Oikawa waits for a reply, not sure if he should say good night yet. The phone lights up again with a response Oikawa wasn’t expecting.

‘I’m a bit nervous about tomorrow…’  
‘It’s only been two weeks, but it feels like it’s been months…’  
‘Please be my eyes tomorrow.’

Oikawa’s chest tightens, his lips twitches a little. He wonders how Suga looks right now.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll be anything you need me to be tomorrow.’

‘I have check up at 10. Please come after that.’  
‘Good night.’

‘Good night.’

The night seems to slip by without Oikawa noticing as he finishes his projects and prepares for Suga’s steamed buns. The sunlight creeps through his curtains just seconds before his alarm goes off and Oikawa sends Suga a text as he heads out, telling the other he will arrive in 20 minutes. Another day with Suga begins.

“Good morning, Oikawa” Suga greets as soon as Oikawa opens the door to his room and extends his hand in the air when Oikawa walks in. He is wearing his sleeping mask today and probably does not plan to take it off at all.

“Good morning, Suga-chan,” Oikawa returns, feeling the flutter in his stomach when he sees Suga’s smile. He seems to feel better. It’s the first time he’s seen Suga this welcoming since he’s met him. His heart tugs and he takes Suga’s hand. “You ready?”

“Yeah.”

Oikawa helps Suga into a wheelchair and heads out to the hospital garden. The air is cool and relaxing as it brushes against their skin. Oikawa extends his hand to hold Suga’s trembling ones when they stop at a bench with a few bushes around.

“This is harder than I expected,” Suga admits, squeezing Oikawa’s hands.

“Take a deep breath,” Oikawa says and waits until the hands relax in his. “We’re in the garden. There’s no one but us.”

Suga lifts his head up. “How’s the weather?”

“Clear. The sun’s bright, everlasting,” Oikawa replies. “Take your time.”

Suga tries to smile, but Oikawa can see that he isn’t relaxed.

“Try seeing with your hands,” Oikawa whispers and guides Suga’s hand to the bench.

He watches as Suga feels the texture of the bench, asking what the color is before trying to reach further. Oikawa can sense that Suga’s more relaxed now and helps him out of the wheelchair, holding his fragile waist as he explores all that has become so foreign now.

After an hour outside, Oikawa takes Suga back inside to wash up and eat. Suga’s face is glowing as he speaks about what else he wants to do before the nurse walks in for his check up. Oikawa excuses himself to go make a phone call so Suga doesn’t have to awkwardly ask him to leave. When Oikawa returns, Suga has calmed and is waiting patiently for Oikawa to sit before saying anything. The nurse had told Suga that he would be discharged next week and they are going to provide him a nurse until he finds a caretaker.

“Oh, that’s great news!” Oikawa says encouragingly. “I’m sure you’ll adapt fast.”

“And if you don’t mind,” Suga adds, “I’d love for you to visit.”

“Definitely,” Oikawa promises before he leaves for the night.

For the next few days, Oikawa takes Suga out to the garden to get used to walking blindly with a cane, giving him tips and assisting in directions. Suga’s senses developed rapidly. If it weren’t for the sleeping mask on Suga’s face, Oikawa would’ve forgotten that Suga can no longer see.

“You excited for your discharge tomorrow?” Oikawa asks as he sits next to Suga on the bed.

Suga doesn't say anything, giving only a nod.

Oikawa takes Suga’s hand into his, feeling it flinch at the touch. “What’s wrong?”

“Can I…touch your face?” Suga asks nervously, his fingers curling in Oikawa’s hand. “That is, if you don't mind…”

Without any questions, Oikawa brings Suga’s hands to his cheeks before letting go. He waits patiently as Suga trails his fingers across his face, caressing his cheeks, tracing his eyebrows, his nose, his lips. A smile tugs at the tip of Suga’s lips.

“What?”

“I honestly have now idea how you look,” Suga chuckles, still feeling around Oikawa’s face. “I can’t even begin to imagine.”

“I can tell you I’m handsome,” Oikawa jokes, causing Suga to elicit a soft giggle.

Suga runs his thumbs under Oikawa’s eyes, grazing his lashes with the pad. “What color are your eyes?”

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know,” Suga laughs. “Brown?”

“Don’t you have a nicer description?”

“Um…almond?”

“Do you like almond?” Oikawa soaks in the warmth of Suga’s hands. He wishes the sleeping mask weren’t blocking half of Suga’s face.

“I do…”

“Then I have almond eyes. What about my hair?”

“Hm…” Suga runs his hand through Oikawa’s hair as though touching it can somehow hint toward the color of it. The warmth of his hand gushes through Oikawa’s head to fill his heart. “What’s another word for brown?”

“I’ve been told chestnut.”

“That's a nice color…” Suga expresses, running his hand through the hair again, this time measuring the length, assessing the texture. He brushes his hand to Oikawa’s ears down to his neck. If he could see right now, he’ll know how much of a nervous wreck Oikawa is under his touch.

“You think?”

“Yeah…”

“What color are your eyes?”

“Brown,” Suga answers almost shyly, the giggle barely noticeable.

“Can I see?” Oikawa whispers.

There is a long silence before Suga slowly slides the sleeping mask off, his silver lashes finally lifting from his cheeks to reveal the honey ginger.

Suga bites the inside of his lips nervously. “What color are they?”

Oikawa hadn’t realized that the sun was setting since their backs are to the window. But now he sees the threads of light lace with Suga’s hair to linger on his face, deepening the pink of cheeks, and the honey of his eyes become a golden glow as though the sun sank from the horizons to live in Suga. The room grows dark and Oikawa sees nothing but Suga.

“Beautiful,” Oikawa sighs almost inaudibly.

“Yeah, um, an actual color,” Suga stresses, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

“Maybe some will say burnt umber…” Oikawa starts. “But I say they’re gold.”

“What are you, a poet or something?”

“I’m an engineer though…”

“Say Mr. Engineer, what are you doing at a hospital?”

Oikawa lets out a soft laugh. “I can’t say.”

Oikawa wants to look at Suga longer, but the other closes his eyes too soon, breaking the moment.

“Will you come see me off tomorrow?” Suga asks when Oikawa stands up to leave for the night.

“I will.”

Oikawa is putting things away in his backpack when he hears Suga shuffle from the bed. He turns to find Suga standing in front of him, eyes opened as he reaches to hold Oikawa’s hand. Oikawa watches the two ends of the thread dance together. Then, without any words, Suga tugs at Oikawa’s shirt and wraps his arm around Oikawa to hug him. The threads of Oikawa’s heart unwinds and tangles as it guides his hands to Suga’s back, to his waist and he holds him. Gently until the other tightens his arms, squeezing the emotions that lie hidden in his heart to gush out and beg for more. Oikawa leans forward and pulls Suga closely to him so that, for a second, their heart connects, the red thread piercing through their chests for contact.

“I had a feeling all along. Every single time I heard the chime, you’d be here.” Suga whispers into Oikawa’s shoulder. “But now I know. You’re my soul mate, aren’t you?”

The words cascade into Oikawa like a sacred river, filling his heart until it clogs his throat and the tears pour through his eyes. “How can you tell?”

“The thread, I can feel it,” Suga says softly. “And the bell chimes in my head when you’re here.” His hands move up Oikawa’s back to grab a fistful of his shirt. “This feels like a dream. I never thought I’d find you.”

“I’m real,” Oikawa manages before his voice breaks into a sob.

They remain in each other’s arms until the tears subsides and all they hear in the quiet room is the calm beating of their hearts.

Oikawa’s phone vibrates in his pocket and Suga pulls away to let him answer the call. It is one of his clients asking for an update on one of his projects.

Before Oikawa leaves, he strokes Suga’s face, watching as the other closes his eyes in comfort of the warmth, a smile glowing. Oikawa dips his head and plants a lingering kiss on Suga’s forehead.

Suga blushes when Oikawa pulls away, eyes still closed, and Oikawa pecks his silver lashes.

“Good night,” would have been the last words for the night, but when Suga opens his eyes again, time stops for both of them.

The universe has a way of giving time to those they’ve taken from. The universe has a way of compensating every loss. Those are the thoughts that would have run through Oikawa’s mind. But, in his head, there is nothing but Suga. If his eyes were gold before, now it gleams a hundred million galaxies. Gold couldn’t possibly hold that much depth. The black pupils dilate and Oikawa falls into the abyss. Suga’s cheeks are no longer pink, but a red of dawn. Oikawa couldn’t be sure where he is when Suga’s lips lifted upwards, the curve hooking the threads of Oikawa’s heart, an maybe it’s not just butterflies escaping the pit of his stomach because he swears there’s nothing else left in his body. His knees are about to give out, his arms are shaking, waves of goosebumps are flooding his skin, and his heart can’t even begin to translate the emotions that bombard him.

“Nice to meet you,” Suga greets, trying to keep the tears from flowing out, trying to keep his eyes from closing. “I’m Sugawara Koushi.”

“Oikawa Tooru,” Oikawa whispers as he lifts his thumb to wipe the tears from Suga’s eyes. “Your soul mate.”

“Your eyes are definitely more of a chocolate color,” Suga comments and caresses Oikawa’s face. His fingers trail Oikawa’s features as he savors every ounce of Oikawa. "Has anyone ever told you that you’re beautiful?"

“Never with the same look on your face…” Oikawa answers as he closes the gap between him and Suga. “As though I’m the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen.”

“Well, you are.” Suga brushes Oikawa’s hair from his face before pulling him down for a kiss. The tender contact igniting a thousand stars to explode and they pour their emotions into each other, filling their hearts with all they’ve yearned for as the red thread gleams under the moon light.

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually supposed to be longer, but I felt that it would make more sense as a series where I was originally going with it because it included Oikawa as a care-taker and several scenes in the house where it feels rush if I just kept it all in this one shot. So I instead condensed it to this. 
> 
> If you liked it, leave me your thoughts!


End file.
